In Flames
by ayyeight
Summary: REUPLOAD Ostracized by his peers and hated by his parents, things begin looking up for Tweek Tweak when he makes his first friend in Craig Tucker. Unfortunately for him, his classmates aren't ready to let him off so easy. And unfortunately for them, he's about ready to burst. Telekinetic Tweek. Based off Stephen King's Carrie.
1. Prologue

**a/n: i almost forgot to do this**

 **this story is based off of Carrie (one of my favorite horror films as a kid) and contains-**

 **\- Child abuse**

 **\- Mentions of animal death**

 **-Death in general**

 **so if any of this stuff bothers you, please don't read this!**

 **Also if this story seems familiar, it's because I posted it before on my ao3 account!**

In Flames

…

Richard Tweak spent most of his boyhood praying something like this wouldn't happen.

He'd hoped that his mother had been bluffing when she said his father possessed godlike powers, being able to move things with his mind, because frankly, the thought of that terrified him. A person that could do those sorts of things surely had no soul and Richard wanted nothing to do with those types of people.

All he wanted was to run a successful coffee shop with his wife, Cindy, and to later pass the family business on to his child.

When he thought about what this child might be like, he'd always pictured someone calm and confident and above all, normal. Someone that would assuredly go on to repeat the cycle Richard had started, by handing the torch to the next generation of Tweaks and on and on and on. He'd also envisioned someone attractive like his wife, tall and lean, popular among the opposite sex.

That is not what he got.

Instead, he had a twitchy, paranoid, insecure mess of a son who had inherited his big, sharp nose and large, ugly ears. The boy somehow managed to make Cindy's large, pixie like eyes look odd instead of endearing, the light freckles dusting his cheeks nowhere near as charming as his mother's.

They called him Tweek, neither one of them feeling attached enough to their offspring to bother coming up with a better name.

The disinterest in their son soon turned into bitter resentment toward him the more he embarrassed them in public with his outbursts and so they eventually decided to keep him locked away in his room, only releasing him so he could attend school and the services held at church on Sundays. If he got especially antsy and started to pace around, his feet thumping against the floor harshly, or better yet got the nerve to pound on the door and beg to be released, they'd simply hold him down and tie him to the bed until he quieted down.

They used this method when he first practiced witchcraft as well.

Cindy tried to love the boy. She did. Tweek had only been about four years old and he was wailing, clinging to his mother as she rocked him gently in an attempt to calm him. He was screaming about something he'd seen in his room, terrified out of his wits by his own overactive imagination. "Richard, would you please get his sippy cup?" Cindy called out to her husband over the sound of her baby's sobs.

Richard had barely moved when Tweek started screeching, "No, no, no! No coffee! Want mommy!" his tiny head shaking fiercely as he tightened his arms around his mother's neck, dreading the thought of having to let her go. Unbeknownst to them, Tweek despised the way coffee made his tummy feel, how jittery he would be after being left with no choice but to drink the burning liquid he would later grow an aggravating dependency on. He wished that stupid coffeemaker would just burst into a thousand tiny glass pieces.

And that's exactly what it did.

Shards went flying everywhere, Richard yelping in pain when one strikes his cheek and a few others plant themselves into his arms as he raises them to shield himself. Tweek shrieks as Cindy ducks, covering him with her body. Concern for her son flies out the window, however, when she sees the blood gushing out of a long gash on her husband's face and she drops the child, rushing over to Richard's aid immediately.

"Richard! Are you okay, dear?! What happened?!" She cried, moving to check his wounds. He brushes her off, his eyes wide with bewilderment.

"You," he accused in a strangled voice, pointing his finger at Tweek who lay on the floor where his mother left him. He was whimpering in pain, the fall from his mothers arms having bruised his side and he rubbed at it, unaware of the trouble he was in. "Did you do this, boy?"

"W-What?!"

" _Did you do this?!"_

At the sound of his father's booming voice, Tweek's shrill, fearful screams filled the air once more and he extended his chubby little arm out, reaching for his mother. "Mommy!"

A powerful force suddenly flung Cindy away from Richard, and she landed with a loud thud next to Tweek, horror flashing through her bugged out, mossy green eyes as she scrambled backwards to distance herself from the small child. He sniffled, attempting to crawl toward her on all fours, just wanting to be held and she kicked her feet at him, "Stay away from me! Richard!"

It was just as Richard's own mother said. "Your daddy got it from his grandfather, that wicked curse. Your boy will likely have it too." He'd thought she was full of shit when she had first told him that, but as time wore on, the possibility of his own son being… possessed by the devil (As Richard was sure that was the reasoning behind these supernatural powers and his late mother would agree with him.) became his biggest fear.

And here it was, becoming a reality.

He winced at the stinging pain in his body where the glass had cut him but he fought to ignore it, racing forward to pluck Tweek up and throw him over his shoulder. "Grab the rope from the supply closet, honey, we have to contain him."

Cindy didn't question this, on her feet instantly to fetch the rope and Tweek kicked and screamed as Richard stormed up the stairs, thrashing about wildly when his father kicks his bedroom door open and throws him on the bed. The door begins slamming open and shut repeatedly, as do the drawers in his dresser, the books lined up neatly on his shelf throwing themselves off, each with a louder bang than the last.

Jumping onto the bed, Richard holds his sons arms down, keeping his hands wrapped tightly around his wrists, his own weight on top of Tweek's much smaller legs keeping them still. "Calm down, son," Richard commands through gritted teeth, staring down at his witch son with eyes full of hate, "We're just going to tie you down until you learn to behave, okay?"

Tweek squirms, squeaking in disapproval as he wheezes out apologies, promising that whatever he did, he didn't mean to and that he'll be a much better boy if Richard releases him. The hands around his wrists tighten their hold and he moans in pain, throwing his head back and crying out even more apologies.

The sound of Cindy's hurried footsteps somehow reach Tweek's ears and he whips his head around, his cheek squished against his pillow as he calls out for her, "Mommy?!" The doors cease their movement, allowing her to enter the room, Tweek's breath catching when he spots the rope in her hands.

"Tie him up, Cindy do it!"

She does, ignoring her child's desperate pleas, snot dripping down out of his nostrils as his wailing quiets down to soft sniffling. When she's finished, Richard moves off of Tweek, eyes foggy with contempt.

"What is he?" Cindy questions shakily, grabbing onto her husband's uninjured arm.

"The devil's spawn, probably," Richard says as casually as one would say 'The sky is blue', "It's up to us to keep it contained, Cindy. There's no telling what could happen if we let this _thing_ run loose."

"And when he's older?"

Tweek tugs at his bindings, howling with pain at the raw feeling of rope rubbing against his sensitive skin.

Richard turns to his wife, face grim. "We'll have to keep him chained up in the basement. It's the only way."

Cindy nods, tearing up as she leads him out of the bedroom, leaving Tweek alone and tied to his bed. He flinches when he hears a door on the floor below him slam, notifying him of his parents departure, probably to seek medical attention for his father's injuries.

Hyperventilating, Tweek stares at the ceiling, feeling small and alone. He didn't understand how he did what he did or why it upset them so much but if they didn't hate him before, they surely did now. More tears streamed down his cheeks as he thought of this, scolding himself for scaring the only two people that sometimes tolerated him. His mother would never hold him again after all of that and his chest heaved as he cried even harder.

His little life had only just begun and it was already headed downhill.

Naively, Tweek tried to look on the bright side, thinking that maybe nothing could ever be worse than this.

But unfortunately for him, this is only the beginning.


	2. Poolside Blues

Chapter One; _Poolside Blues_

…

It's hot in the pool room, but Tweek doesn't complain. He's not allowed to speak to people other than his parents unless he's spoken to first and even if that rule wasn't in effect, he'd say nothing. The pool room is warm for a reason. You're not supposed to be fully clothed like Tweek is right now, you're supposed to be in a swimsuit and in the water. Like everyone else is.

He fidgets, trying to keep his eyes from wandering lest they land on someone and get him accused of staring. That's happened a few times before and one of his teeth on the bottom is missing because of it. The gap isn't noticeable luckily, sparing his appearance from any more ugly traits, it's on the side of his mouth, not the front but he can still feel it there and every time his tongue pokes at the empty space, he remembers exactly how awful it had felt when Stan's fist connected with his face. A shiver runs down his spine at the memory but at least it kept him from making the same mistake again.

"Alright kids, I'm gonna step out for a bit," The gym teacher announces, his clipboard in hand as he heads toward the exit. "Try and behave until I get back."

Tweek gulps as the wooden door swings shut, chewing down on his lower lip as he tries to focus on his English homework instead of the fact that his teacher has practically left him to die. You'd think he was just being dramatic, but as luck would have it, his gym class is full of his most vicious tormentors and they made sure to remind him of how much they hated him every time the teacher's back was turned.

"Say," Eric Cartman barks, loud enough for all to hear. "How come Tweek doesn't have to get in the pool? You guys think he's got some sort of disease?"

"What, like a sex disease?" Kenny McCormick scoffs. "No way, man. Someone would have to wanna fuck the freak for that." The rest of the boys howl with laughter, Tweek flinching at the disgust in Kenny's tone as he struggles to tune them out. He can hear some water splashing around as Kenny makes his way toward him, asking, "Unless I'm wrong. You get fucked Tweek? Huh? You catch the clap from some hooker your daddy bought for you?"

"Oh please, like you could pay anyone to fuck Tweek the Freak," Stan chirps, making Tweek's face burn.

He doesn't hear them get out of the pool, heart pounding with fear as they hover over him menacingly. "Hey crackhead, answer Kenny's fucking question," Cartman hisses, smacking the side of Tweek's head, the other boys snickering at the alarmed look on their preys face.

Tweek swallows, keeping his head down as he shakily answers, "I'm clean."

"Then why don't you fucking swim?"

"Because I can't take my shirt off..."

"Aw, how thoughtful," Clyde Donovan taunted, setting a hand on his chest like Tweek's words had touched his heart, "He doesn't want to blind us with his hideous body."

"That's so sweet," Kenny cooed, "You're a real pal, Tweeky."

Years of being isolated impaired Tweek's ability to identify sarcasm, though he's been getting better at it in recent years, and so he takes Kenny's words seriously, his head snapping up to look at the guys gathered around him, hope pumping through his veins. "I am?"

"Fuck no."

Tweek's face falls as the boys laugh at him some more, his body starting to shake viciously. "Aw, what's the matter Freaky Tweeky? You gonna spazz out?"

"The shirt thing's such a lame excuse," Craig Tucker points out before Tweek can reply to Kenny, his voice nasal and dead-sounding, as if he's uninterested in this whole ordeal. He didn't participate in bullying Tweek often, but he did laugh along with the others at the poor boys misfortune whenever he was around to witness it. "You could just wear a swim shirt."

"Maybe he can't get in the water because he's a witch!" Butters suggests, clapping his hands together like he's made some huge scientific discovery. "Witches melt when they touch water, ya know."

"Hey yeah..." Cartman says quietly, rubbing his chin in thought, "You've got a point there, Butters."

"You guys really think he could be a witch?"

"Only one way to find out," Kenny winks. He grabs Tweek's arm, yanking him forward and when Tweek tries to pry his hand off of him, Cartman grabs the other arm. Before he knows it, he's being carried to the deep side of the pool by Kenny, Cartman, Clyde and Butters, the latter two picking him up by his legs. Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski follow close behind them, snapchatting the whole ordeal as the other boys chant:

"Throw him in! Throw him in!"

" _Stop, stop_!" Tweek begs, writhing around in their hold, "I can't swim, _stop!_ "

"Fucking liar!" Cartman roars as Kenny and the other boys continue their chant, laughing and clapping their hands as if this is the best thing they've seen all year. And in a way, it is. They've all despised Tweek since he first joined them in middle school, after his parents stopped homeschooling him. Half the senior class would agree that he's been asking for it since the sixth grade, when his panicked outbursts and twitching had been even worse than now.

" _Stop it! Let me go!"_

"If you insist," Kenny shrugs and they launch him into the deep end, the onlookers cheering in triumph.

Tweek flails wildly when he hits the water, struggling to stay afloat. The other boys don't notice, too busy high fiving each other and looking over Stan or Kyle's shoulder to watch as they replay the snaps of Tweek being thrown in. No one notices when he goes under.

No one but Craig Tucker, who stopped laughing when he saw just how truly terrified Tweek was, his amusement replaced with guilt.

He dives in after him, ignoring Clyde's question of ' _what the fuck are you doing'._ The next few minutes are a blur; His arm wrapping around Tweek's torso, Craig noticing he can feel his ribs through his clothes and wondering how often this kid eats, then they're on the pool floor, Craig checking Tweek's pulse and checking to see if he's breathing when suddenly the odd teenager starts to shake violently, his breath quickening as his body stiffens, jerking uncontrollably.

The lights hanging over them flicker on and off, the gym teacher returning right on time, right before the doors start slamming open and shut repeatedly. "What happened here?!"

The teenage boys stay silent, staring down at their victim in petrified confusion.

" _Let me go, let me go, let me go!"_ Tweek screamed, swinging his fists at the air above him as if he was still being held against his will, kicking his feet wildly. Cartman starts cackling again, using Stan's cell phone to snapchat the episode, saying something to Kenny about this being the best day of gym so far. Craig had half a mind to break that stupid phone in half.

"Hey dude, you're safe now, it's okay," Craig mumbles softly, still knelt down next to Tweek as he tries to make eye contact with him. It's no use and when he reaches to grab Tweek's wrists, the boy freaks out even more,

" _Stop, stop!_ " he cries out, slapping Craig's hands away, " _Why can't you guys justleaveme alone!?_ "

Craig backs away as quick as he can, nearly bumping into Clyde when he does. The gym teacher takes his place by Tweek, trying to calm him down as best as he can, his voice too low for any of the others to eavesdrop.

"You know," Clyde mumbles to him when they're walking to the locker room, right after the gym teacher shoos them away from the scene, "I can't help feeling like that went a little too far."

Craig couldn't agree more.

…

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Tweek. We understand that this must've been a traumatic experience but we need you tell us who did this so there can be some consequences."

The principal's office is decently sized, with colorful walls and gray carpeting. There's a little poster plastered on the wall behind Principal Victoria's desk that says 'I'm your princi- _pal_ ' and Tweek can't help but feel like she's more suited for elementary school rather than high school.

He stays silent as she and the gym teacher stare him down, the latter sighing heavily when he realizes Tweek isn't going to say any names.

"That Eric Cartman and Kenneth McCormick are always messin' with him, I wouldn't be surprised if they were behind this whole thing," he grumbles, looking like he's mad at himself for even mentioning them.

Kenny and Cartman were known for giving their teachers a lot of grief, always getting into serious trouble and then weaseling their way out of it at the very last second. People could call them idiots all they wanted for the way they presented themselves, but Tweek considered them to be evil geniuses.

Evil geniuses that were out to get him.

He shudders and the gym teacher pats his shoulder awkwardly, Principal Victoria asking him, "Is that true Tweek? Was it Kenny and Eric?"

"I don't know," he lies softly, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, "It happened so fast..."

"I see," she hums, making a steeple with her hands.

"Principal Victoria," the school secretary says, opening the door to the office, "The Tweaks are here."

Tweek feels his body go cold when he hears this, his eyes bulging like they want to pop out of their sockets.

"Ah, good," she says, waving her hand when she adds, "Send them in."

The clicking of his mother's heels against the hardwood floor feels like a countdown to doomsday for Tweek, and he swallows hard when they fade as she steps on to the carpet, Richard without a doubt right next to her.

"Mr and Mrs Tweak, it's so good to see you despite the circumstances!" Principal Victoria greets, gesturing toward the two chairs they'd pulled out for them. Normally, they'd only need two chairs in total for something like this, since most parents decided to send only one in while the other held down the fort but after years of working with the Tweaks, Principal Victoria had grown used to expecting both of them. "Have a seat."

"And what exactly are the circumstances?" Richard asked, his voice projecting that false sense of calm Tweek knew he didn't actually have. "Your secretary was very vague on the phone." Cindy nods in agreement with this, her hand squeezing her husband's.

"It seems that a couple of the senior boys thought it'd be funny to throw Tweek into the pool. He nearly drowned, didn't you Tweek?" She nudges her glasses into place, her eyebrows bunched together as she stares holes into him.

He squeaked, muttering, "Yeah."

"I see," Richard said, not sounding the least bit concerned.

"I assure you we're going to find out who did this and they will be held responsible! For now, though, why don't you take Tweek on home? He must be spooked silly, what with that whole ordeal and all those other strange things that were going on at the same time!"

"Strange things?" Cindy whispered, her gaze turning glassy.

The gym teacher nodded, looking over at the couple, "When I came back, I found Tweek shaking on the floor. Then the lights started flickering and the doors kept slamming open and shut. It was like a scene straight out of a horror movie."

Richard and Cindy share an unsettling look at this news, their faces stony.

"Well, we'd better be getting Tweek home now," Richard finally says, standing up with Cindy quickly following suit. "Thank you for telling us about this-" He pauses, his lips pursed as he searches for appropriate word, "-incident."

"Of course, it's mandatory," Principal Victoria nods, waving them off, "Goodbye Tweek- And again, I'm so sorry this happened."

Tweek says nothing, his feet feeling heavy as he stands to leave with his parents, sparing her only a terrified glance as Richard slings an arm around his shoulders and leads him out to the car, pushing him into the backseat and slamming the door shut, making Tweek flinch.

They drive in eerie silence for a bit, his parents not once looking back at him and _oh man_ , was he gonna get it now.

"I'm sorry!" he blurts out, his hands clutching the seats and scratching at them, "I didn't mean to make the lights or doors do that, _itjusthappened_!"

They say nothing, Richard even turning the radio up to tune out his son's miserable voice.

This only makes Tweek speak louder, his voice desperate, " _Whydoyoualwaysdothat_!? Listen to me, _please_! I didn't do _itonpurpose_!"

Cindy's mouth opens, and for a moment, Tweek is hopeful that she's going to respond, that she'll actually talk to him, but then she starts singing along to the song, pretending like he doesn't even exist.

"Run rabbit, run rabbit," she sings, her finger moving as though she's conducting an orchestra.

"Mom, please! Itwasan accident!"

As they get closer to the house, Richard starts singing too, "Bang, bang, goes the farmer's gun," and then they're singing in sync, successfully drowning out their sons pleas.

He slumps down, picking at the seat and starting to shake when they pull into the driveway. The radio turns off when Richard shuts the engine down, him and his wife both going quiet. They turn to look at each other, seeming to communicate telepathically before glancing back at Tweek, their eyes cold.

"I'm sorry," he tries one last time.

And again, they ignore him, getting out of the car in sync.

Cindy opens Tweek's car door for him while Richard unlocks the front door, tapping her foot impatiently as she waits for him to get out. He does so reluctantly, trying to control his breathing when Richard grabs his shoulder, pushing him up the stairs and into the house.

"You know the drill, boy. Up to your room," Richard says, as if he's only asking that Tweek do his homework.

Tweek bows his head, trudging up the stairs and into his room to get into position. _At least I'm not getting a beating,_ he thinks to himself, trying to look on the bright side.

It only takes a couple minutes for Cindy and Richard to tie him up this time, having become quite skilled at it after years and years of practice.

"We're going back to the shop now," Richard tells him, turning the light off as he and Cindy exit. Tweek squirms a bit, fear pooling at the pit of his stomach. God, he hates the dark. And his parents know it. They'd gotten the darkest curtains they could find for his room, making sure hardly any light got in. "You behave yourself while we're gone, you hear?" Richard warns and then he's gone, not even bothering to wait for Tweek to answer.

He hears the door slam downstairs and sighs, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to think about how much his wrists and ankles hurt, hoping that maybe he can make himself sleep until they come home and untie him. He'll have to pull another all nighter if he doesn't want to end up sitting in the library to do his homework during lunch, but it doesn't really matter either way.

It's not like he had anyone to sit with.

…

"So then I told her, I'm not doing this out of pity, I'm broke as hell too, just take the fucking sandwich," Tricia rambled, dabbing pink nail polish on Craig's toes. Their parents were both working late tonight, so they were sitting in the living room, _High School Musical_ playing on the television while they traded gossip.

If any of Craig's 'friends' knew that he spent most of his free time doing stuff like this, they'd never let him hear the end of it. And that's precisely why none of them knew. He made sure to keep them all on a need-to-know basis, the only exception being Clyde who luckily never asked what Craig did when they were apart and so was never told.

"Did she end up taking the sandwich?" he asks, genuinely interested.

Tricia scoffs, "Hell yeah she did, you know how persuasive I can be."

They laugh together, the only other noise in the house being _Bop to the Top_ playing in the background.

It's nice having just Tricia in the house, being able to spend time together without their parents screaming in the background. He's so, so glad he's close to his sister, unlike Clyde and Stan, and it occurs to him that he's lucky to have a sibling in the first place. He couldn't imagine having to deal with their parents alone.

He couldn't imagine dealing with Cartman and Kenny alone either.

Tweek Tweak's been running through his mind all day, ever since the pool incident. He'd never given him much thought before, just thought he was weird and knew he was easy to mess with. But now that he looks deeper, he realizes just how shitty they all actually are to Tweek.

Sure, to _them_ it was harmless.

But that was because they weren't on the receiving end of it.

"You look bummed," Tricia says, lifting a brow. "Something on your mind?"

"Yeah, uh," he blew some air out of his cheeks, "You know that weird kid everyone always picks on? Tweek Tweak?"

"What about him?"

"...He almost drowned today. Because Cartman, Kenny and a few other guys threw him into the pool. Turns out he can't swim." The muscles in his face tightened at the memory of Tweek thrashing around even after he'd pulled him from the water, terror all over his face. He wouldn't be surprised if Tweek feared being around pools for the rest of his life.

"Holy shit," Tricia went bug eyed, her brows knitted in a frown. "Is he okay?"

Craig lifted one of his shoulders in a half shrug. "He was still flipping shit when I pulled him out of the water. I heard they had to call his parents in to pick him up."

Tricia shuddered, inspecting her work on Craig's toes and nodding in approval to herself, putting the nail polish on the coffee table. "I feel so bad for that guy. He always looks so scared."

"Yeah," Craig agrees, glancing down at his toes, "I'm starting to feel bad for him too."

"So what are you gonna do about it?" Tricia asks, hugging her knees to her chest, staring at him expectantly.

"Nothing, probably. What _can_ I do? It's not like I could get everybody to stop messing with him."

"No, but you could be there for him. Like a friend," Tricia suggests.

Craig shoots her a questioning look, "What's being friends with him gonna do?"

She shrugs her shoulders, turning her attention to the television. "You never know how much someone can benefit from having at least one friend, Craig."

She drops it after that, and they watch the rest of the movie together in silence, Craig actually considering what she's said. If he did want to befriend Tweek, it would probably take a while. The guy had to have his guard up after everything their classmates had put him through, no doubt he would think Craig was trying to pull some sort of trick if he were to approach him.

Or maybe Tweek would be happy. Wary, but happy.

Maybe he'd be glad to have at least one ally.

But then what would the guys say?

For a few minutes, Craig worries about what their reaction might be if he was suddenly all buddy-buddy with Tweek Tweak but then he remembers- He doesn't actually care. None of them were his real friends anyway, even him and Clyde had been drifting apart, the latter growing closer to Jimmy Valmer with each passing day.

And even if he did care, it's senior year. He only has to put up with them for six more months and then he never has to see any of them ever again.

"So," he says, having come to a decision, nudging Tricia with his elbow, "How should I approach him?"

…

It felt like everyone was staring at him.

Every conversation that went on around him, every laugh he heard- It all felt like it was at him. Like maybe they were gossiping about how Tweek the Freak got thrown into the pool during gym class. And why wouldn't they? Apparently the whole thing was on snapchat, even the part that happened after someone had pulled him out from the water.

How humiliating..

He keeps his head low all throughout the school day, hoping maybe he can avoid a confrontation.

There's a few shoves and snide comments in the hours leading up to lunch, but Tweek's used to that by now. Sure, it still sucks, but it isn't anything new.

What's new is Craig Tucker standing in front of his lunch table, staring a hole into Tweek's head.

Tweek recognizes him by his worn down shoes, the kind you'd buy secondhand at Goodwill or at a garage sale. Craig Tucker's family wasn't as poor as the McCormick family, but they were still pretty pinched for cash. Craig scuffs one of his shoes against the floor, seeming almost uncomfortable as he clears his throat to get Tweek's attention.

"Hey."

Tweek goes completely still with fear, wary of what might happen as he slowly lifts his head to look at Craig with wide eyes. Was he going to get beat up? What was Mr. Popular Craig Tucker doing talking to him of all people? Sure, Craig laughed along with the rest of his tormentors but he never sought him out himself.

"….Is it cool if I sit?" Craig asks almost meekly, nodding towards the seat across from Tweek.

Tweek gulps, nodding timidly. Craig sits down almost immediately, setting his bag down on the ground next to him. There's an awkward silence as the two stare each other down, Tweek trembling a bit and then Craig coughs.

"So hey. What's your favorite color?"

"Huh?"

"What's your favorite color?"

Tweek blinks hard, wondering what Craig could possibly want with this information. "Green, I guess..."

"That's cool. Mine's blue- What are your parents like?"

"Um," Tweek bites down on his lower lip, twitching, "Why areyouasking me this stuff?"

He flinches at the end of his sentence, as if expecting to be punched but Craig just shrugs.

"It's how I get to know people."

This catches Tweek off guard.

"You want to get to know me?"

Craig nods.

"Why?"

"So we can be friends?" Craig says simply, like it should've been obvious.

Tweek gapes at him like a fish. No way. Craig had to be up to something, he just had to. There was no way anyone in the history of ever would want to be friends with Tweek the Freak, especially not Craig Tucker. Maybe he wasn't the quarterback like Stan Marsh or charismatic like Kenny McCormick but Craig _was_ one of the best looking boys in their grade and had a naturally fuck it all attitude that everyone found cool for some reason.

There's definitely something fishy going on here.

He reaches out to gather his things and get the hell out of there before Craig can deliver the punchline to whatever joke he's playing but Craig stops him, gingerly taking his hand in his own and lifting his sleeve up a bit to reveal his wrist.

His finger traces the scars there, his face pinched with concern. "What happened?"

The genuine worry in his tone makes Tweek flush, his breath catching a bit. It had been a while since someone showed some actual concern for him, the last time being in eighth grade when Jenny and Lola offered to walk him home from school to make sure no one beat him up. He had declined as to not get in trouble with his parents, but he still thought of it when he needed to feel like _somebody_ cared about him.

"I'm clumsy," Tweek lies, pulling his hand back and cradling it against his chest as he gets up from the table.

Craig presses his lips together, looking like he doesn't buy Tweek's excuse for a damn second, and then he asks, "Where are you going?"

"The library!" Tweek squeaks out too fast, putting his books in his bag hurriedly, "I just remembered I have homework I needtofinish!"

"Oh, okay," Craig replies lamely, watching as Tweek disposes of his lunch in a nearby trash can. When he comes back for his bag, Craig asks, "Is it cool if I go with?"

"Um," Tweek grits his teeth. Shit, how bad is this joke if Craig's willing to move the party over to the library? "I shouldprobablygo alone. I need to focus."

"That's cool," Craig says, nodding. "Catch you later then?"

"Uh, yeah, uh huh," Tweek nods frantically, giving Craig a tiny wave as he scurries away, ducking his head to avoid the stares that follow him out of the lunch room.

 _What was that about?_ He wonders to himself as he makes his way to the library, _Craig almost seemed genuine._

No. No, that'd be too good to be true.

This was definitely some sort of trick.

…

Or maybe not.

Craig seems to pop up again and again throughout the day, even walking Tweek to one of his classes.

Before this, Tweek figured Craig wasn't much of a talker, but in his one day of knowing him, Craig had talked enough for the both of them.

It was mostly trivial things, how football was going (Craig was on the team, though he claimed to not be that into it), what TV shows he was currently watching (Tweek didn't watch TV at all because his parents deemed him unworthy so he didn't know much about TV shows but he was still surprised to hear that Craig was a fan of _Gossip Girl_ ), and how he doesn't have to wear his retainer anymore (Tweek remembers Craig's braces; he'd worn them all through middle school and the first year of high school. They were cute on him.) but either way, it was surprising he was still talking to Tweek at all.

Even more surprising was Craig taking the empty seat next to Tweek's in their last period English class.

Clyde Donovan and Kyle Broflovski kept sending strange looks toward the two of them all throughout the class, but it didn't seem to bother Craig at all. In a way, this made Tweek feel a little relieved. They didn't look like they were waiting for Craig to pull something, so maybe he wasn't going to. Surely his friends would be in on it if he was.

They don't really talk to each other class, Tweek focused on taking notes and Craig focused on doodling in the margins of his notebook, but it's still a bit nice and foreign just to know Craig is _there_.

"Okay class, that's about it for today!" Mrs. Thunder announces, clapping her hands together. "Before class ends, I want you guys to choose your partners for your class project! You have to make a presentation on the book of your choice, but it has to be a classic, okay?"

Fuck.

Tweek shrinks a bit in his seat. He hates it when they have to pair up for projects and he especially hates giving presentations. It rarely ever ends well for him.

As he's trying and failing to think of a way out of this, Craig nudges him.

"Hey Tweek, wanna be partners?"

"Huh?"

"Do you wanna be partners?"

"I..Aren't you gonna work with Clyde?"

Craig shakes his head, offering Tweek a small smile. It makes it feel like Tweek's been struck by lightening, but in a good way, if that made any sense. "No, I want to work with you. That cool with you?"

Tweek holds Craig's gaze, searching his eyes for any hints of insincerity but he finds nothing.

And so, he offers his own shy smile, nodding slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, that's okay with me."


End file.
